Shifted
by YYHfan-KB
Summary: "Caring is not an advantage." Those words became his mantra, his sole comfort when his heart was burning. His focus, the mission ahead, his cold grey eyes firm as he carried on tearing apart the network that had brought about so much pain. Perhaps at the end of all things he would find his partner again. AU/ Platonic shapshifters, set during the Great Hiatus.
1. In Which There is A Great Fall

**Chapter 1 - In Which There is Much Sorrow**

* * *

Open your eyes.

Focus.

See the Earth spinning below.

Oceans and continents whirl around in the never-ending waltz of the universe.

Zoom in.

Below you lies Europe.

Zoom in.

Focus, England comes into the picture now.

Zoom in again,

Focus on London, get closer, closer, until you find the man atop a building with a desperate look in his eyes.

Zoom a little closer, see the phone as it falls to the roof behind him.

His coat flutters in the cool breeze and down he goes, like a rag doll tumbling to the ground to meet the jaws of oblivion.

* * *

Sherlock bounced off the inflatable with a thud and quickly rearranged himself on the cold concrete so he appeared to have fallen from a great height as the team of "bystanders" poured fake blood all over his head and he placed the ball under his arm to create a lack of pulse.

He could hear John shouting for his soul mate, it was all Sherlock could do not to get up and say it was a hoax when John was right there pleading and screaming that he was Sherlock's friend and a doctor.

As he was wheeled away Sherlock could feel honest heartbreak at the sobs of the one person in the world who understood him the best.

Once into the hospital he was taken to the morgue and Molly shut the doors so no one would see Sherlock get up to change into less conspicuous street clothes.

"Molly, has the switch been made?" Sherlock came out from behind the changing room door as he pulled on an oversized grey wind breaker.

"Yeah, Moriarty is in place for the 'viewing'" Molly said quietly, she looked so sad that Sherlock took a moment to rest his hand on her shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

"I will be back Molly."

"You had better come back, if you don't John might not be here, he's going to be so heartbroken"

Turning away Sherlock bowed his head and said so softly Molly almost didn't catch it, "More than anyone could imagine."

* * *

Three days later Sherlock sat up in the tree near his gravestone watching as his funeral proceeded before him.

John's speech was short and very emotional, the blonde was clearly trying his hardest not to cry as he spoke, "Sherlock Holmes was my best friend, a brilliant man, and he will always have a special place in my heart."

With that John left the front so they could lower the casket, his strong soldier's stance was clearly all that stood between him and an emotional break down.

Sherlock felt one cold tear creep down his face as he longed to comfort his soul mate and tell him everything was just a bad dream. His normally icy heart had a warm spot in the center for John Watson and that center was what kept Sherlock sane most of the time, he would compare choices to what John would do, if it would be 'a bit not good' or a good idea by John's standards because if anything he wanted his friend to be pleased with him.

He knew that his actions were so far past 'a bit not good' that he was uncertain about if John would ever forgive him. Sitting in retrospect for so long he only realized how much time had passed when John stopped at his grave one last time after everyone else had gone.

"...don't be dead." That was all Sherlock caught of John's sentence, and it was more than enough to understand what he meant. He knew that if he didn't go through with his plan though everyone he cared for would die. So he mustered up a steel wall and sealed all his emotions away behind a massive door that he wouldn't allow himself to open until his mission was complete.

With one last look at John's retreating back Sherlock whispered to himself, "I will come back for him."

* * *

_A/N _Hello again, this is Sherlock's POV of Shift, and what happened to him over the three years he was gone. I do hope you all enjoy this one as well, also, I intend for this to be a standalone type so if you haven't read the first Shift then you won't miss much and of course I'd appreciate any and all feedback as usual thank you!

^_^ KB


	2. Shock Waves

"Is it true?" The crackle of static over the phone line did nothing to conceal the pained worry lacing the three words that came from the other end.

"Yes, Dr. Watson is...gone." Mycroft felt cold as he spoke, his plush armchair suddenly no longer welcoming. The brandy in his hand held little appeal as he waited for, nor did the crackling fire before his feet spark any warmth in his tired bones.

"...why?" The word was barely audible to Mycroft as the other man choked it out.

"Apparently he could not cope. Emotion is much more fatal than I originally assumed, however we have yet to find his body."

"It was the Thames Bridge correct? I highly doubt Mycroft that you ever find him." The cold snark was back, emotions had been pushed aside it seemed for the time being.

"Yes well, we will continue trying." Mycroft sighed and fiddled with his glass, "You on the other hand, how fares your project?"

"...slow, there are many warrens for them to hide in." The line crackled again making Mycroft wince.

"Do try to wrap things up on a timely manner, I would hate to lose the opportunity to mop up this network."

"Hmmph. I will do it as quickly as I possibly can Mycroft, you just make sure the country stays running while I'm away."

"Of course."

"And don't eat too much plumb pudding."

"I am on a diet you know." Mycroft frowned as the other scoffed lightly.

"I'm sure you are."

Silence bloomed between them again, neither fully willing to part with their conversation nor say anything else as both were still adjusting to the shock of Dr. Watson's sudden death.

"You'll check in once you reach Tibet?" Mycroft murmured quietly.

"Provided I can find a secure line, yes."

"Very well." Mycroft hesitated, "... Safe travels then Sigerson."

The dial tone in his ear indicated the other had hung up, but still Mycroft kept the phone there for a moment longer before setting it down on the reciever and taking a swig of his brandy. Then another. Then... Then he realized the glass was empty.

With a heavy sigh Mycroft sat the glass down and glanced at the report sitting next to the coaster, John Watson's suicide had caught them all off guard. Mycroft felt he could have prevented it had he taken the time to check on John a little better instead of relying on lackey's to report back to him the good doctor's state of mind.

"Sir?" Anthea's soft voice broke the silence.

"Hmm?" Mycroft turned to glance at her.

"Sir... The dredge team couldn't find him." The young woman looked as unruffled outwardly as ever, except for her eyes and hands, Mycroft could tell through the way they were a little shiny and her grip on her phone would classify as deathly that she was indeed affected by the doctor's passing.

As were a great deal of people he mused.

"I see, thank you, tell them to stand down."

"But sir-"

"There is no point in continuing Anthea, he is gone." Mycroft sighed as his more emotionally indicative personal assistant looked like she wanted to refute him again.

"I...very well sir." Anthea bowed her head with a sad frown.

"You may go home for the evening."

"Yes sir." With that the young brunette left quietly as she came.

Mycroft settled back speculatively as he thought about what remained to be done and what loose cards still floated the breeze, "Now to see where they fall.."


	3. Grieving

_Bond blockers were developed by Mr. Frank Digger in the late eighties as a means to hide his level three bond with his wife so they could work on their top secret government projects without the other mentally peering over their shoulder so to speak. _

_Unfortunately to this day Mr. Digger's formula has yet to be refined as the bond blockers are known to have an adverse reaction on certain individuals. Generally speaking anyone with a level one bond could take a blocker and be mostly alright, save the nagging feeling of emptiness, as a level one is the lowest end of the spectrum. _

_Level two individuals taking a blocker will experience loneliness and possibly depression._

_Level three bonds go through loneliness, depression, bouts of self doubt and suffer from low self esteem. _

_Level four bonds have been recorded as suffering through extreme anxiety, depression, loneliness and even physical pain. _

_Level five bonds are highly recommended to stay away from blockers as it can result in death after serious depression and potential mood swings. _

_No matter the level all subjects say that without the feeling of their bond they feel empty and cold, not a pleasant feeling by any means. Even after being reunited sometimes the bond is weakened and needs something to repair it, most couples find that some intense alone time with each other works. _

_An excerpt from Mrs. Goodbody's _**"Study of Blockers"**

* * *

Sherlock felt nothing but the breeze in his fur and the ground rhythmically thumping under his paws. He could keep this steady lope all day and still be able to sprint into the finish if he had to, the rough terrain was barely a side note to him as he headed from France to the German border. Technically Sherlock knew if he was seen it would cause a bit of a stir but at the same time logical people would assume he was just a person out for a shifted run.

And running he was, when he had picked up the newspaper in Paris that morning and its headline had read "Doctor John Watson Dead" his heart had almost stopped. The call from Mycroft had been a confirmation he could have done without. Sherlock hadn't realized how powerful a connection they had had until he had taken the bond blocker just before the jump and been hit with the strong sensation of loss.

The empty ache hadn't gone away yet, and now Sherlock was beginning to realize, it probably wouldn't ever.

There would be no more midnight runs with a great wolf at his side to defend him, it was just him now, the Cheetah who cheated death. Why had John done it?

_Why? Did he honestly not think he could go on...without me? Sentiment, I told him it was a magic trick! …... but I also told him I was a liar..._

His thoughts chased him round and round forcing him on, his passing spotted only by a few hikers and only glimpsed by the few birds that hadn't fled at the scent of a predator.

_My fault. I tried to protect all three and in the end the queen was sacrificed._

Sherlock pushed on, passing through Germany and into Poland the next night. His paws beginnning to ache and legs burn with the ongoing run.

_I would give anything to have him back._

Mycroft had warned him that caring was not an advantage, the elder had hardened his heart in a way that Sherlock had been able to up until John. Then somehow the blond wooly jumper wearing Doctor wormed his way in. The only reason Sherlock had really realized they were mates was when John had touched him and that jolt of electricity went through him, just like his brother said it would.

It had been so long since Mycroft had first told him about meeting his mate, excited for once and so overflowing with something Sherlock had been unable to identify at the time.

Then the car crash, and Mycroft became cold, so cold it hurt Sherlock to see his once happy older brother such a shell of himself. Just a machine with no heart. His attachment to his mate had been overwhelming, and when that bond had been ripped away Mycroft had been left alone and empty.

_John..._ Sherlock knew he had miscalculated how attached John was to him, their bond had grown so strong over the short time they'd been together Sherlock could usually sense when John was somewhere nearby.

He hadn't thought that John would commit suicide. Just because he was gone. Mycroft had confirmed it solemnly though, and Sherlock knew he couldn't go back to London now.

It seemed Moriarty had gotten his desire after all, he had burned Sherlock's heart. Now all that was left was ash and dust. A shell of what had been, so Sherlock ran, faster and faster putting as much distance between him and the city which he now associated with John so completely he couldn't look at a street corner there without thinking of the blond man.

Sherlock didn't know exactly when he fell asleep but the throbbing in his paws told him that yes he was still alive and the sound of birds told him he was somewhere in the wild but any more than that and he couldn't begin to deduce it with how bad his head hurt. Sherlock let out a sigh, his head drooping again. His mate was gone, and it was all his fault. No. It was Moriarty's fault, the man had forced him to jump. He'd had no choice.

_If I had found a way to warn him...Tell him I wasn't dead..._

But he hadn't, and he was never going to see his partner again. Now Sherlock had to finish his mission, otherwise what would have been the point?

Picking up his head Sherlock huffed, for John's sake, he had to go on. Destroying Moriarty's network had to become his sole mission, his single focus, Sherlock would worry about what happened next once the mission was done.

So slowly, reluctantly, he locked the pain and memories of John away in a room in the mind palace.

Rising after almost half an hour of trying to shut the door to John's room in the mind palace Sherlock shook his head, once more in control of himself. His body still tired but mind now rummaging through what all needed to be done.

His estimates landed him somewhere in the ballpark of three years for this whole network to come crashing down, all he had to do was take out the supporting cast and the rest would be history.

With that decided Sherlock pushed on, heading for the border of Belarus. His work would begin once he reached Tibet and made contact with his brother again. From there he would get his new identity set up and Mycroft would give him the first locations to hit.


End file.
